


You have to let me go

by TonyStankandPetieBoi



Series: Irondad h/c bingo [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hiking, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker Cries, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Photographer Peter Parker, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28924314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStankandPetieBoi/pseuds/TonyStankandPetieBoi
Summary: Peter and Tony attempt to go on a harmless walk. Concussions mixed with cliffs lead to a painful dilemma for Tony and Peter.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad h/c bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101773
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	You have to let me go

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the next square for my bingo card. Seriously this made me cry writing this. My poor baby Peter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the pain, and the happiness! 
> 
> There is no death. I assure you. Just a happy ending. :)

Gravel crunches underneath their feet, walking along the small trail. Peter smiles when a small bird flies right past his head, tweeting as it makes its way towards its nest. Tony’s only a small fraction further along the path than he is, normally he would be the one in front, with his acrobatic enhanced spider powers. But as much as he hates to admit, he’s not gifted with very good directions. He’s never even been on this walk before, he knows he would probably get lost. 

Tony has more geographical skills than he does, and a pair of high tec glasses with an AI installed in them. Which has access to every hackable database there is, and for Tony Stark, that means  _ every _ database. Even though he’s not the one leading them, he has the bag of supplies carried on his back. Bottles of water and a ton of snacks, most of the snacks for Peter and to feed his enhanced metabolism.

The air is thick and humid, Tony definitely picked a hot day to go for a walk. He doesn't really want to whip his phone out and check what the temperature is, he knows all it will do is just make it hotter. Make the heat even more unbearable than it is, make the sweat now sliding down his forehead turn to salt. So he doesn't, he pushes the thoughts of the heat to the back of his mind. Instead focusing on the pang of hunger that moves through his stomach, and the bench he can spot just up the path. 

“Tony? Could we stop for a sec?” Peter taps hesitantly on the back of Tony’s shoulder. Tony turns his head back to look at him, halting on the path, gravel crunching underneath his sneaker clad feet. He swipes his eyes up and down Peter’s body, taking in the sweat soaking into the collar of his t-shirt. 

He nods, “Sure thing kiddo. We can sit on that bench up ahead.” He pulls Peter into him with a firm hand on his shoulder, wrapping his arm around Peter’s back. The touch is warm, comforting, and he can’t help the way he relaxes into Tony’s hold. All thoughts of the heat and the hunger, fading away, only to be replaced by a wave of fatigue washing over him. His mind going fuzzy, black spots dancing at the edge of his vision. His knees buckle slightly, forcing Tony to take the brunt of the teenagers weight. 

Relief floods through him when he sees the bench through his blurry vision. The weight on his shoulders disappears, hands turning him and pushing him down to sit on the bench. Hunger washes over him, deep and gnawing. He blinks confusedly when he sees the protein bar hovering in his vision. It’s unwrapped, and the smell of chocolate and oats wafts into his nose. His stomach grumbling in response, it’s loud and he can barely hear it through the buzzing in his ears. 

His arm is weak and shaky but he manages to lift it, taking the bar and raising it to his mouth. It’s devoured in a matter of seconds, filling him up and making the hunger lessen. It clears his vision, black spots slowly fading away, until he can see Tony knelt in front of him. Worried wrinkles etched into his forehead, a gentle and reassuring hand on his knee. “You okay now bud?”

The buzzing in his ears now cleared, he can hear every word Tony says. He nods, sitting up properly and shaking away the last dregs of fatigue.”Yeah. Sorry.”

Tony shakes his head at that, slowly rising from his position on the floor. His knees cracking and protesting the movement, he plonks himself next to Peter on the bench. Brushing a stray curl behind Peter’s ear. “You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not your fault. I should’a made us take a break earlier.”

Turning towards Tony, he deadpans. Eyes staring deeply into Tony’s skull. “It’s not your fault, you wouldn't have been able to tell I needed a break. I’m fine now, we should head off again.”

His mentor lets out a sigh, breaking their eye contact before shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. Let me just have a drink first and then we can carry on.” 

He pulls up the backpack, shoving a hand in to rifle through until he finds one of the bottles. He pulls it out and takes a few big gulps from it before shoving it back in. He stands up, waiting while Peter does the same. Peter pulling up the bag and slinging it onto his back. 

Peter doesn’t know how far they have left to go, but he knows they have to make it to the lip of the cliff. Tony had been talking about the view from the top for ages, telling him how beautiful it was. The man had definitely hyped it up, Peter now extremely excited to see what it looks like. He just hopes he can get a few photos in, he brought his special camera for that sole purpose. 

He knows they’re getting closer when Tony’s pace speeds up, Tony waving a hand forward, ushering him on. “C’mon Pete it’s just up ahead.” Peter’s surprised by the sudden speed in Tony’s stride, but Peter manages to keep up. Following hot on Tony’s heels, he manages a quick glance over Tony’s shoulder finally seeing the drop. The beautiful crisp green of the grass covering the large hills in the distance, the colourful and exotic flowers littering them. He’s absolutely mesmerised by the hypnotically beautiful sight, not paying attention to the ground he’s stepping on. 

His foot catches on a large rock, toes squishing in his shoe. The last dregs of exhaustion from before, hindering his fast reflexes. He doesn’t go to catch himself, not being fast enough to stop the floor from quickly meeting his face. The pain is earth shattering, forehead cracking into the harsh rock. Air whooshes out of his lungs, his head throbbing painfully. Everything’s blurry and all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears. He can’t even remember how he managed to get on the floor, but he can certainly feel the blood slowly dripping warmly down his face.

He flinches when he feels a hand on his shoulder, curling into himself. But a warm voice coaxes him out, “Hey, hey it’s ok, it’s just me kid.” He finds his body wanting to move towards the voice, but the throbbing in his head prevents him from doing so. His stomach gurgles, bile slowly rising in his throat. It takes almost all of his effort to turn to the side, vomiting harshly onto the warm stone. The sickness subsides just as fast it had come, the hands slowly guiding him to roll back over. 

Peter’s eyes clench shut, squinting when the sun burns into his retinas. Then he senses a shadow sliding over him, blocking the sun out and providing him some relief. Peter finally gathers the courage to crack his eyes open, staring up at the two stylishly bearded blurry men bent over him. He realises who they are instantly, but the reason they're here is a mystery. “ ‘ony?” 

The men nod, reaching out two hands to brush softly into his curls. “Yeah kid, it’s me. Can you tell me how many fingers i’m holding?” the hands pull back, and he can see both of the hands raise two fingers. Peter stares for a moment, wondering whether Tony means, both of the Tony’s or just one. 

“Do ‘ou mean b’th of you?” He licks his dry lips, waiting for the answer. There’s a worried sigh, the hands lowering back down to brush into his hair. It confuses him when he realises that he can only feel one of the hands. Tony’s faces frown, before he realises he’s probably seeing double. 

“Ok, you probably have a concussion Pete. We gotta move you somewhere out of the sun, d’you think you could help me with that?” Tony kneels down now, still blocking out the harsh rays of the sun. Peter can see his face more clearly now, the worried wrinkles etched in Tony’s forehead. The way the corners of his mouth curl downwards in a worried frown. 

With all the strength he can muster, he nods his head, swallowing the vomit down that gurgles its way up his throat. Tony’s hands wheedle their way underneath his shoulders in response, slowly pushing upward. Forcing his body to sit up, his vision fills with black spots. He knows he’d be swaying and plonking back to the ground if it weren't for Tony’s tight grip. He winces when gravity takes effect, the blood dripping down his face and into his eyes. He leans into Tony, blinking back the viscous fluid. A soft sleeve suddenly enters his vision, wiping across his face and clearing it from his eyesight. 

Tony coughs, smiling worriedly down at him. “Well, you look like you're the victim in a horror movie. But I've cleaned up most of the blood. We’re gonna try and get to that tree over there and then I'll put my suit on and we’ll go back. Ok?” He points over to a tree back down the path, a soft patch of grass underneath it, completely in the shade.

Whining in disagreement and disappointment, Peter shakes his head. “No, I w’nna t’ke phot’s of the ‘iew.”

He grasps weakly for the bag on his back, trying to get it off without pulling on the straps. It doesn't work, and Peter’s muddled brain gets confused. Tears stream down his face in frustration, not understanding why it won’t come off.

Rough calloused hands help the bag off his shoulders, pulling the straps and sliding it off. Peter snatches it from his hands feebly, unzipping it and pulling the camera out. He pulls it to his chest, curling around it as if Tony or someone else would take it from him. 

His mentor sighs when he realises there’s no leaving here, if Peter doesn’t get to take photos. He takes the backpack away placing it gently on the grass to the side, he drops down on a knee, kneeling in front of Peter. “You can take pictures, but you have to sit down. And i’ll take some too, your vision is probably too blurry to take any good photos.” He tucks a strand of hair behind Peter’s ear, staring into the sad dilated eyes of his mentee. Before Peter can say anything, he leans over, placing an affectionate kiss onto Peter’s crown. 

He plucks the camera from Peter’s grasp, taking the strap and lowering it onto his neck, letting it hang, resting on his chest. Gently sliding his hands underneath Peter’s arms, he pulls, helping him to his feet. He’s wobbly, and looks a little green. But Tony’s quick to steady him, pulling an arm across his shoulders and sliding his around Peter’s back. He makes them walk slowly, Peter’s head just lolling uselessly on his shoulders. 

They make it less than a metre to the edge before Tony stops, slowly lowering Peter to the floor. Peter sits there, legs laying out in front of him. He looks dazed and not completely with it, it fills Tony with worry. He wants nothing more than to haul him up and zip him to the tower where Bruce can look him over. But he knows that Peter would want photos of this, so he pulls the camera off his neck. Taking it in his hands and aiming it towards the horizon, looking for the perfect perspective and the right amount of light and the right angle to take the photo. Once he's done a few, he takes a step closer to the edge. Trying to aim the camera downwards to see if it would look good from that angle.

Peter can hear the crack forming in the rock, he’s only vaguely aware that he’s watching Tony leaning over the edge of the cliff. It’s obvious Tony never hears it, not stepping back from the edge. Not realising the area he’s standing on isn’t stable. Peter knows what's gonna happen before it does. He can hear little pieces of rock crumbling, falling down the cliff to land at the bottom. The rock cracks loudly, it’s sickening and he knows Tony can hear it too. He wonders if Tony’s eyes widen, he can hear the camera tumble from his hands, cracking against the edge before it falls over. Crunching against the side of the cliff before it rolls to the bottom. It takes all of his strength to lunge for Tony, just as the rock gives way and Tony slips out of view. 

The next thing he knows is he’s staring down at a wide eyed pale faced Tony. His hand wrapped tightly around Tony’s wrist. It takes almost all of his energy reserves, all of his strength to keep holding on to Tony’s wrist. To keep him from falling, to stop him from plummeting to his death. The world is shaking around him, spinning and jumping. Black spots licking at the edge of his vision, his shoulder aches from where his arm is pulling at it. Tony just stares up at him, gasping for breath. He looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack, but Peter doesn't know why. 

With all the energy he’s using to hang on and try to keep his vision stable. All rational thought seems to leave his mind. All he knows is that he can’t let go.

⎊🕷⎊🕷⎊🕷⎊

He had no idea anything was wrong, he hadn’t heard the rock crack. Tony remembers standing there one second, and then he was gone. All he can do is stare at the side of the cliff. Wondering how if he fell, is he not dead and staring at cracked and crumbly rock. He risks a glance upwards, realising he's staring into the white face and glazed eyes of Peter. Peter’s eyes are partly unseeing, he’s gulping rapidly and his face looks pinched, as if in pain. Guilt settles heavy in his stomach, knowing he’s the reason Peter’s in pain. The portable arc reactor housing on his chest, filled with nanites pushes to the front of his mind. He knows it would be so easy to tap it and fly up to the top. But Peter’s grip is deathly strong, fingers clenched so hard that the skin of his wrist is turning white. He has to get Peter to let go first.

“Peter.” He sets wide hopeful eyes on him, waiting for Peter’s eyes to flicker to meet his. Their eyes meet, he can see that nothing’s really going on in Peter’s mind. But he’s glad that Peter is coherent enough to hear and react to his name. Tony smiles. Once he’s sure that he’s got Peter’s attention, he makes sure to talk gently but firmly. “Listen to me, ok? You have to listen, ok Pete?”

Peter nods, it’s weak and shaky and it makes Peter’s cheeks turn a faint green colour. “M’kay.” 

“You have to let me go.”

He waits with bated breath, Peter whimpers, gripping his wrist tighter in response. “N-no. Y-you’ll die.” A lone tear escapes, sliding painfully down Peter’s cheek. It hurts, for Tony to watch Peter’s heart break just through his gaze. There’s a war raging inside Peter, and Tony’s watching him lose. He smiles shakily, twisting his wrist within Peter’s grasp. 

Surprisingly to himself, with a steady voice. He says, “I won't, I'm Iron Man remember?”

The words seem to do something, because Tony can see the tiny spark of hope lighting in the chocolate brown orbs. “‘ron m’n? Is- is he ‘onna come sav’ us?”

It takes almost all he has to swallow down the sigh of despair, knowing Peter really isn’t with it. He doesn't know what to do, hanging here by Peter’s strong grip. Which he can feel slowly weakening along with the increase in Peter’s slurring. He’s supposed to be the invincible Iron Man, he’s supposed to know what to do, how to fix things. But for what feels like the first time, he has no idea what to do. 

His heart aches, tears falling from his own eyes. As he tries to plead with Peter, “C’mon Pete, i’m not gonna die. You have to let go. You have to.” His eyes bore into Peter’s, exposing the vulnerable wires of his soul. 

Hoping against hope, something will click in Peter’s brain. That  _ something _ will get through. 

But those hopes fly out of the window at the frown Peter makes. The small furrow of his brow, those eyes filled with confusion and pain. “N-no. ‘ron m’n, he’ll save us. Right? H-he’s gonna sav’ us.” Tony knows it’s just Peter’s fragile mind trying to convince itself, that someone will come to save them. He knows that probably nothing makes sense to him, that the only thing he can hold onto. Is the fact that Iron Man will come to save them. Because he can’t hold on to Tony, they can both feel his grip slipping. But only one of them knows that won’t lead to Tony’s painful and brutal death. 

Sweat clings sticky and uncomfortable to the skin on his wrist, it makes it harder for Peter to hold on to him. He can even feel Peter’s fingers slipping, he can feel the way Peter desperately tries to tighten and readjust his grip. But it doesn't work, he can see the way it cracks Peter. The tears that fall like a waterfall of despair and pain down his pale cheeks. The way his chest shudders with every heart wrenching sob. Tony shuts his eyes, only for a second. To take a breath and shut the sight of Peter’s tear stained face out. But it doesn’t work, it’s etched into his mind. Into his eyelids. 

He sighs, before wrenching his eyes open. With his best stern dad voice, he orders. “Let me go. You have to let me go. I won’t die. I’m not gonna leave you.” He stares straight into Peter’s eyes, firm. 

Peter whines, even more tears falling. “N-no. Y-you'll die. Please. I c’n’t let go. I c’n’t.” he tries to tighten his grip, but it doesn't do anything. Tony can feel himself slip an inch, Peter’s grip tightening rabbit fast. A cry of fear slips from Peter’s lips, eyes widening as tears fall. A litany of No’s fall from his mouth. Tony shakes with every sob that shakes Peter’s arm. It serves to aggravate Peter’s already slipping grip. 

It happens in seconds, Peter’s fingers slip. Tony’s wrist dropping out from Peter’s grasp. Tony lifts his arm to tap the arc reactor, nanites covering his body just in time for him to power up the thrusters before he reaches the ground. He can hear the earth shattering, heart breaking scream Peter makes, but it’s even more painful when it cuts off. Obviously from Peter succumbing to unconsciousness, he sees Peter’s body slump, from where he was already leant quite far over the edge. Gravity wins, Peter’s body slipping head first off the cliff, flopping bonelessly towards the ground. Tony flies up to him, catching him gracefully in his arms. 

It feels right, Peter held safely in his arms. Head resting on his chest, over the arc reactor glowing blue across his face. It illuminates the tears drying on his cheeks, the blood now crusting on his forehead. Tony doesn’t waste a second, speeding up as he shoots across the sky towards the tower.

⎊🕷⎊🕷⎊🕷⎊

All Peter knows is. 

_ Tony’s dead _

_ He failed him _

_ He couldn't save him _

But then he hears the hum of the arc reactor, the way his head rises and falls against someone's chest. The woosh of breath in and out of a pair of lungs, the strange tapping. He can hear the deep voice speaking. He can feel the rumble of the chest with every word. 

“When do you think he’ll wake up?” Peter can tell it’s someone else, their voice is soft and gentle. Peter guesses it could be Pepper. 

The chest underneath his chest moves. “I don’t know. I hope it’s soon. He’s freaking heavy.” 

Peter smiles at that. “‘m not heavy.” He feels himself being lifted away from the chest. Once he’s sat up, still resting against the chest. He cracks his eyes open to stare weakly at the man, he thought was dead. “I-i thought you were dead. I-i couldn't hold on, you f-fell. I-i’m sorry!” He sobs. In seconds he’s pulled firmly against Tony’s chest, a firm kiss pressed to the top of his head. 

“I think we both know that i’m Iron Man, i’m not dead. You weren't in your right mind. But it’s ok now, i’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You gotta understand that Pete, i’m not gonna leave you. Not for a long time. Not if I can help it.” Peter sobs into his chest, fists weakly clenching in the fabric of Tony’s grease soaked shirt. He scrunches his eyes closed, pressing his forehead into Tony’s chest.

“D-dad.” He cries out weakly. He snuggles as close as he can, not ever wanting to let go. Not even for a minute. He can feel the hands stroking his back, and the back of his neck. One of them threads into the hair on his head, holding him close. Peter cuddles close to him, sobbing his heart out until his voice dies and his tears dry up. Turning into hiccups. Tony shushes him.

“It’s ok. Shh. I’m here, i’ll always be here. I love you Pete.” he cherishes the kiss pressed to his crown, to his temple, to his forehead. He soaks in the love Tony pours over him. 

“I love you too.” He opens his eyes, lifting his head to stare at Tony’s face. He can see the adoring smile etched across it. It warms Peter’s heart. He smiles back. He vows to himself to never let go.  _ Never _ again.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Remember to leave a comment! You can say anything, what you hated, what you liked. Even if you wanna say hi, it'd make me ecstatic. I hope you enjoyed. :)


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